No Matter What
by sparksofwrite
Summary: This is it, Weiss thinks. This is how I'm going to die.


**TITLE: No Matter What**

**AUTHOR: **_sayakas-heroic-bsod_

**SUMMARY: **This is it, Weiss thinks. This is how I'm going to die.

**A/N: **Because Roman Torchwick deserves more attention than he gets from the fandom. I filled in the gaps in his character with headcanons and wild mass guessing, and also added some lesbians because why not. The rating might change in the future, ships will be added, and there should be more coming soon, since I am officially done my first semester at college. :) I hope you enjoy, and that you review!

(Thanks to stone-cold-brahma-bull at tumblr for helping me out with the plot!)

* * *

Weiss trips and collapses, the air leaving her lungs all at once.

As she lies there, gasping, she can hear Ruby screaming through the trees, the sound growing distant. She doesn't remember when they lost Blake and Yang, but it must have been a while ago if she can't hear them. The growls of the Beowolves reach her ears and she tenses, trying to sit up. She's covered in blood, and she wonders absently if all of it is her own. Something in her gut tells her it probably is. The way sleep tugs at her consciousness is terrifying- _don't pass out. Whatever you do._

She can't really explain why today has gone so terribly. One would think her initiation four years prior would have been the worst experience of her academic career, but instead it's her final exam. Four team members, four relics to retrieve, hundreds of Grimm to fight off. They really had tried to stay together. At least she didn't set the trees on fire this time.

No, instead of flames, she's bleeding out in the middle of the Emerald Forest.

Finally she manages to force herself into a sitting position. From the previous angle, all she could see was the grass underneath her. Now she can see the ring of trees that surrounds her clearing, and hear the approaching Beowolves. _This is it, _Weiss thinks._ This is how I'm going to die._

As quickly as she can, she lies down again. She read somewhere, studied in one of her classes, maybe, that Beowolves won't attack if you play dead. Or was that Ursi? She can't remember. She closes her eyes and tries to slow her breathing as the creatures emerge and their steps get closer and closer.

Suddenly, she hears it. An airship, probably from Beacon- she's too relieved to consider that she's failed her exam. She quickly deliberates whether to sit up and hope the creatures are scared away by the ship, or stay down and hope whoever is steering sees her.

The air around her stirs and she opens her eyes, looking around while still on the ground. She's right- the Beowolves' snarls quiet down and die as they disappear into the trees. As the ship touches down, she glances over at it. Strange. It isn't emblazoned with the Beacon Academy logo.

The door opens, and she realizes why.

_Shit._

She scrambles to get up, grabbing Myrtenaster and ignoring the searing pain in her side. The promise of lacerations and broken ribs isn't enough to keep her from running, so she does, as quickly as she can. But her fastest while incapacitated isn't very fast at all, and the dread in her throat chokes her screams.

The last traces of aura she can summon aren't enough to heal her, and aren't enough to fight with. So she's largely helpless as the White Fang overcomes her.

* * *

_The wrinkled bedsheets under Weiss's body are warm, comfortable. She inches closer to her girlfriend. _

"_We'll do amazing. We'll pass our exam, and we'll graduate and become huntresses." Weiss smiles confidently. "You're the best leader. Nothing can stop us." _

_Ruby giggles through her nervous tears. "I really hope you're right, Weiss. It's gonna be so much harder than our initiation, and…"_

"_We weren't nearly as good back then! We're both better at working with a team now." She clasps Ruby's hands between her own, feeling her heated skin. "Come on. Don't get upset. Of all times, you choose now?" She teases gently. _

_This time Ruby really laughs, the leftover tears spilling out. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill the mood. I don't want to lose you." _

"_You never will. It's okay." She tilts her face up and kisses Ruby's forehead. "We can do this, together."_

* * *

"You're prettier than I expected," someone says. "I'll give you that."

Slowly, Weiss opens her eyes, taking in everything.

She's in a small room, lying on a bed. The walls are as white as the sheets and, save for an empty shelf, there's nothing else. The door on the far wall has a small window with bars in it, just big enough that someone can peer in. She can see red hair covering half his face, with one green eye exposed.

She sits up, noting the dull throb in her side- she can feel the chafe of expertly tied bandages, but she's still wearing her sporadically sliced, blood-covered clothes from the forest. "Where am I?" She asks.

"What do you remember?"

"I…" She tries to recall something, anything, after she was dragged into the airship, but she must have passed out. Panic begins to seep in through the cracks in her armor, and she feels lightheaded with fear. She stands as sure-footedly as possible. "Let me go at once!"

He laughs, and she can hear the doorknob squeak. She moves away cautiously as she door swings open and a man strolls inside.

He's tall, wearing a white coat, and holds a cane- it doesn't touch the ground when he walks, she notes, amending her initial observation. It probably isn't a cane at all. He has a cigar in his mouth, adding to an aura of complete confidence. When he notices her defensive stance, he rolls his eyes. "Oh, calm down, you aren't _that_ pretty. I have no such intention."

"Somehow I don't believe you," she counters.

"You give yourself far too much credit," he says, removing his cigar from his mouth and shedding its ashes onto the floor.

She takes another tentative step back. "Who are you?"

He grins. "My name is Roman Torchwick. I'm surprised you don't recognize me."

She's ready to put him in his place, remind him exactly who he's talking to and who should be recognizing whom when she remembers. "Wait, you're the one who gave Ruby trouble a few years ago? The one who robbed all those dust shops!" She buries her nails in her palms. It comes back to her: the news reports, her father's fury. The recollection of her father's rage and stress makes her shake with rage of her own.

"The very same," he answers proudly, returning his cigar to his lips.

She grits her teeth against all the insults and threats she wants to scream- the lack of a weight at her side grounds her, Myrtenaster's disappearance reminding her of her impotence. Weiss forces herself to stay calm. "Why have you brought me here?" She asks, one deep breath later.

"Why, Miss Schnee, I thought it was obvious."

"What are you talking about?"

"Were your parents so neglectful that they never prepared you for something like this?" He sounds genuinely concerned. "You're being held for _ransom._"

"What?"

"We'll never have to rob another dust shop again, if everything goes according to plan." He pauses. "And, truly, you should hope it does. You'll be free to leave unharmed."

"My father does not negotiate with terrorists," she says confidently, chin high, ignoring the traitorous bead of sweat that runs down the back of her neck. She hates the part of herself that hopes, for a fraction of a fraction of a second, that she is wrong. That she will be out of this situation as fast as possible.

He shrugs casually. "Then you'll remain here."

There is silence as he takes the cigar and sheds the ashes again. With nothing left to say, Weiss focuses on not crying hopelessly like some stupid child.

"Well, Miss Schnee, my mission here is through," he sighs, before giving her a quizzical look. "Please try to understand that this is nothing personal. Purely business. I trust that you, the heiress of such a prominent company, will understand."

"Go to hell," she snarls, in a moment of something between bravery and suicidal ideation.

The man tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and his face changes to a look of almost hurt. The expression clears up so quickly, she will later wonder if it was true, or pretend, or if she imagined it.

"Rather," he continues. "I trust that you will cooperate." He turns to leave. "Do take care."

"You'll never—"

"Get away with this?" He closes the door and she can hear his footsteps as his voice echoes down the hall. "Darling, I already have."


End file.
